On living

I had someone mention that this person hears more about the family on facebook, than in any other way. I count at least 15 invitations to join someone's facebook friends, and I have declined every one. Many of these come from people who hardly ever communicate with me. I grew up learning from my father the meaning of communication. And I love writing to people. My dad wrote to each of we children every Monday morning, and we used the phone only on Sundays. We didn't have instant cameras, so Phyllis and I sent away our rolls of film, and had three copies made, one set for each of our parents, and one for ourselves.

I have been told over and over "THAT'S THE WAY IT IS>" We who grew up with Walter Cronkite know that He spoke to each of us, and with his death recently, I have realized "THAT'S THE WAY IT WAS." I used to write more letters than I do now, because no one ever writes back...and call it what you may, whether Face Book text messaging, the same issue to me, is relavant...we don't LISTEN or communicate with each other because we are too busy...Blogs are important, but they , to me, don't take the place of personal letters, or communication.

I don't use the excuse that I'm "too busy", I don't feel well, so that is why this is the end of my blog...In my life, though I have made many many mistakes, I have tried to stand up for what was right, and have learned the ministry of listening...I even insulted Walter Cronkite once in the Bunch of Grapes bookstore...but there is within me, no energy, no fight, and now that Walter is dead, and my wife is dead, and my parents are gone...I remember the joy of living, the people I have met...and it is, this living bit, very wonderful...but 'that's the way it was" when people cared enough to listen with their ears, but more importantly with their hearts. Thanks for listening and replying to my blog...and I wish God's richest blessings be yours...

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JENNIFER AND MATT

Jennifer and Matt were married at Pathfinder Lodge...in a beautiful ceremony by the shores of Lake Otsego...
*t was a day filled with love,,,and the gleam of a mother's eyes from above...Congratulations...

My favorite 5 year old

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCAS COOPER SANBORN-BURCH 5 YEARS OLD

June 21 a pause

It is the longest day of the year...It is Father's Day...and it is for me the 39th Anniversary of my Ordination...

A SUNSET IS A 'PAUSE' BEFORE THE DAWN OF A NEW AND GLORIOUS DAY...

June 14th

It has been 55 years since I was in 5th Grade, at Liberty Street School and yet I still remember the words..

HATS OFF ALONG THE STREET THERE COMES, A BLARE OF BUGLES, A RUFFLE OF DRUMS
A FLASH OF COLOR BENEATH THE SKY. HATS OFF THE FLAG IS PASSING BY...

It is FLAG DAY 2009

When you come to the end of a perfect day...

"And in despair, I bowed my head...There is no peace on earth I said...
For hate is strong, and mocks the song...Of peace on earth, good will to all"
I am sitting by the window of my 12th floor apartment looking at the lights of the city. and weeping.
I am thinking of the warm evening 39 years ago..and of my Father preaching my Ordination Sermon...
"THE DAY NEVER ENDS..." for all these years I have ministered and believed in the Hope of those words..."

Now I am hearing the stirrings of a different Hymn "Now the day is over..." Everybody who participated in the Ordination is gone to their Eternal Reward... and I am not physically well. While everyone is trying to "FIX" ME, according to their own agenda, I am remembering my mother, who never tired of LISTENING to me, and never telling me what to do - she would say to me, "I just want you to remember that I love you" She who had been disappointed by me so many times rather than trying to fix me, she loved me. Even when I was talking to her on the phone on what was a difficult day for me. I told her that I felt like jumping out the window. She said to me "Oh I know you'll do a good job of it Peter." She even said to me, as I sat beside her bed to say goodbye and thank you to her. AS i finished praying with her she said "I'm not going to say good-bye to you Peter, but I WILL SEE YOU ALONG THE ROAD."

The difference between my father and I, was not that either of us was afraid of dying, for we are not...but he was having such a good time living he didn't want to die and I am not. Since by stroke, every moment of every day is fraught with pain...and I am not complaining or feeling sorry for myself...rather I am stating a fact...The person who fought for and advocated for people, now nears the end of the day...and I have nothing left within me to stand up for myself and fight.

Hearing of an auto accident which claimed a young woman's life...I've been thinking of getting a call one night in Bainbridge...
a young 17 year old had just been killed by a drunk driver. The family asked for me...I arrived to their house, and heard dishes crashing within. I walked in and sat with the father while his wife through dishes across the kitchen. This went on for 45 minutes, and she came into the Living Room walked up to me, and sobbed 'I'm sorry" and all I could do was cry with her. for I would have reacted the same way... Or the call late on christmas Eve telling me that a young couple in my Gay Head church had just lost their baby...and the day never ended...Or 18 month old Kimberly who died suddenly and their Pastor wouldn't go to them because he didn't know what to say...I went to them, listened to their anguish and their tears, and cried with them...
I have stood with countless people when their lives, and hopes died. I remember walking behind a grief stricken couple, all night long, after their child had died...I walked all through the night about 100 yards behind them so they would know that God was near to them, as He reached out to me...and the day never ended...

I'm sitting here gazing from my apt. window, feeling as though there is so much hatred in this world...a man filled with hatred goes in and kills someone in the Jewish MUSEUM...and a Dr. gun down in Church while speaking in the name of God that OTHERS LIKE HIM WILL BE KILLED...and I sit and weep beside my apartment windows. I am thankful that mother and dad aren't here, for they too would be filled with tears...of all the gifts given to me by my mother and dad, was the gift of listening to what was being said, and not said and to love people like my mother did...

A sunset is a PAUSE BEFORE THE DAWN OF A NEW AND GLORIOUS DAY...as the day draws to its close....

June 2

It has been 48 years, yet I remember it as if it were today. Everything in my life is measured by that day. Everybody would say to me, the oldest living child"if there is anything that I can DO for you or the family" I finally said to someone"there is nothing you can DO but if you want, stay near to us and our fears and tears>" This, they couldn't do because they and we, live in a world where "fix it" is what we want to do. It's lilke the question I asked Dr. Warshaw when he told me Phyllis was dying "What am I going to tell our daughters that their mother is dying, because Heather would tell Jennifer "wait til Daddy gets home. He can fix anything." The question came from in my heart!

I listened last night to a young woman, whose husband had died, and her brother was killed. I felt tears well up in my eyes not of self pity, but rather that I could identify with her, and I was humbled that she felt she could talk to me about her brother's tragic death. Every June 2, I have sent red roses to mother and dad, because I understood the pain...this year I cannot, as mother and dad recently died...

The young lady's brother's name was DAVID, the same name as my hero, my older brother, DAVID, who died suddenly on June 2, 1961.